


I Lost My Shoe And Something Else

by elluvias



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bilbo's past life was Thorin's wife, Multi, Reincarnation, Sadness, giggles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:26:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1739606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elluvias/pseuds/elluvias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo is sick and exhausted when he realizes he lost his shoe and several other important things.</p>
<p>Thorin realizes he found the one being he thought he had lost forever the day the dragon came.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In which Bilbo is the reincarnation of Thorin's deceased wife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FannishMinded](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FannishMinded/gifts), [diemarysues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/gifts).



"I lost my shoe!"

Bilbo can't help the pitiful tone of his voice, the way he droops as he realize that his shoe is now gone. He liked that shoe. It was a good shoe. It always took forever to find shoes that fit his feet. He stares down at his foot forlornly, for it is now large and hairy and bare for all the world to see. No one wants to see his feet now.

"Halfling you don't have any shoes."

Looking up at Thorin Bilbo can't help but blink in surprise. Then looking back down at his feet, as opposed to just his foot he realizes that yes both his feet are bare.

"I lost both my shoes?!"

Losing both of his shoes is bad! So very bad! Shoes are important. They keep ones feet from getting injured. He'd gone barefoot before, hadn't he? Yes he had, because he remembers the painful feeling of his bare feet against rock, the slickness that came when he'd started bleeding. Trying to run, to get away. What had he been running from?

"Mahal fucking wept, Halfling what happened?"

"I was running?"

Bilbo knows his answer is more of a question than an actual answer. He had been running. He knows that. He had been running.

Someone presses their hand to his forehead then jerks it away swearing.

"Oin! He's got a fever! He's hotter than a forge."

"What?"

He's dragged to the side and a dwarf, Oin, begins to examine him. Bilbo is compliant with his demands, he knows Oin, doesn't he? Oin is dear to him. Reaching up he smiles as he touches Oin's grey hair. It shouldn't be grey, it should be darker than that. Shouldn't it? Bilbo tugs on a braid before he is pulled to the side. The world is strange and hazy and he sees familiar faces and new faces amongst these people. These dwarves. Then he is pushed and prodded along and made to sit down on a log while the others make camp.

Everyone looks worse for wear. Thorin...Thorin looks hurt. Why is Thorin hurt?

"Thaduluh?"

The word forms on his tongue so easily. It isn't always spoken in front of so many others. Yet it is the one word he knows will always get Thorin's attention. He know he's succeeded when everyone freezes and stares at him in disbelief. Why should they look so surprised? He's spoken khuzdul for most of his life. He is certain he hasn't mispronounced anything.

"What happened? You're injured and I've lost my shoes and I think I'm bleeding but I feel strange like I am ill. Thaduluh! Thaduluh! Where are our sons? Where is Frerin? I gave..."

Bilbo stands up, it doesn't matter if he is in the wild in some unknown place. It doesn't matter that everyone else is looking at him like he has gone utterly mad. His sons are not here. His sons are not in his arms and Frerin is not here. Frerin had been running with him. There was danger. Something very dangerous. Bilbo had had to grab his children as quickly as possible and run.

Thorin is there now and holding his shoulders in a too tight grip, staring at him as if he cannot believe Bilbo is real. Bilbo purses his lips and frowns, trying to convey to Thorin he does not appreciate the manhandling.

"Dwalin get my husband off of me before I rebreak his majestic nose with my dainty fist."

Bilbo has to snipe because it seems like Thorin is not letting go and has utterly lost his mind. Bilbo doesn't want to break Thorin's nose because he's feeling horrible and drained. Like just standing is taking everything out of him.

Dwalin is suddenly there over Thorin's shoulder and Bilbo can't help the horrified gasp that comes out of his mouth.

"Dwalin! Your hair! What happened?! Mahal..."

Bilbo fights out of Thorin's grasp and goes to Dwalin. Dwalin is bigger than he remembers but it takes little effort to pull the warrior down enough to where Bilbo can touch the man's head. He made a crooning sympathetic noise in the back of his throat, mourning the loss of the magnificent mohawk that had driven dear Balin up the wall.

"It'll grow back. We'll...I don't know what we'll do but we will get it back. How else are we to get our entertainment during those horrid Council meetings if Balin isn't turning funny colors while staring at your hair?"

"Lady...Lady Bili?"

The voice is familiar and Bilbo...no Bili turns to look at Balin.

"Balin you _know_ how much I..."

Balin is white where he had once been dark grey. Bili can't help but gasp, a hand coming to cover her mouth. She feels dizzy and ill and everything is wrong. Everything is so wrong. Her weary feverish eyes now begin to take in, truly take in, the appearances of the dwarves before her. The ones she knows are much older than before, and those she doesn't are looking confused.

She is in the wild and she doesn't know what is going on. But something begins to press at her once more, despite the reactions of her kin. Turning she lets go of Dwalin and moves to Thorin, taking his shirt and trying to shake him.

"Where are our SONS?! Where are our _CHILDREN_?! THADULUH WHERE ARE FILI AND KILI?! There was screaming and _fire_. We were under attack! I..."

Bili felt tears falling from her eyes as Thorin took her in his arms and held her close. She felt dampness in her hair as Thorin clung to her. Why did she feel so sad? Had something happened to her children? No she would remember if something had happened to her children. Hadn't she given them to Frerin? She had.

"Fili and Kili are safe, Ghivashel."

Thorin's voice was hoarse. Slowly he let her go and beckoned someone forward. Turning around she was faced with two dwarves. One golden like her and the other dark like Thorin. The golden one had Thorin's eyes and the dark one had hers. The two boys looked shaken, just like the rest of the dwarves, and she couldn't say she didn't feel similar.

"Fili"

"Kili"

" _At your service_."

Bili took a hesitant step forward, then another. She carefully reached out, touching their hair. Part of her told her this wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible. Her children were children, Kili naught more than a babe.

"You are both so big. So handsome." Bili couldn't help the watery smile she gave them. "You certainly got that from my side of the family."

There was an uncomfortable chuckle that came from her boys. Yes, they were older than she had last seen them. A mother always knew her children though.

" _Amad_."

Kili's voice was broken under grief and wanting, wrapped up in disbelief and love. Bili couldn't stop herself from tugging him to her, wrapping her arms around him.

"I'm here inudoy."

Bili heard him sob, felt him cling to her tightly as if afraid she was going to slip through his fingers at any moment. She patted his back as comfortingly as she could, feeling something against her hands. Something familiar.

"You're an archer just like me. That's the smart dwarves weapon. Stay far back from the combat and protect your loved ones before they know they're in danger. Don't let your adad try to tell you it's anything other than dwarven. If he had his way we’d all be head butting our enemies to death to show them dwarven ‘superiority’, which is to say the only thing he is superior in is melodrama. Be smart and ignore his ridiculousness."

She kissed his forehead and let him go, coming to Fili. Oh he was so much like Thorin, trying to cage his emotions in and be the proper heir. Yet the tears running down his face betrayed him and she pulled Fili into a hug.

"You're a good boy Fili. I love you and don't forget that. Don't try to take too much responsibility. You're a dwarf just like all the others and have a right to feel. If you don't let others get close to you, you'll end up like Thror and honestly my dear I can think of many things much better than your grandfather."

"Ghivashel!" Thorin sounded scandalized as he always did whenever his wife mentioned that Thror had been anything less than the perfect dwarven king.

"Shut it! I want my son to be a good king! One who hoardes merriment, laughter, peace, and food for his subjects over all the glittering gold and gems in the mountain. A mountain of gold will not bring him comfort nor friends! A fanatical drive towards an unattainable dwarven right over all things that glimmer does nothing but breed sickness. I hope my son has my sense over these things and will toss that blasted glowing rock back in the chasm from whence it came." Bili turned her head to look at Thorin, her eyes narrowed in the ever familiar show of her stubborn temper coming out into play.

"The Arken-"

Bili pressed a kiss to Fili's forehead before she turned on her heel and marched over to her husband.

"The Arkenstone is a gem! A creepy gem! Have we not learned from Khazad-dum? I don't like it! I hate it! And if you say that it is a sign of your line's divine right to rule I swear by my pretty floral dress I will _end_ you and your stupidity Thaduluh! Dwalin agrees with me!" Her hand waved towards her ever stalwart brother in arms whenever it came to dealing with the stubborn stupidity over all things shiny the dwarves of Durin’s line had.

"It does feel like it's watchin-"

"DWALIN THIS IS NOT THE TIME!" Thorin roared, which earned him an angry poke to his chest from Bili. Her hand was taken in his and she was tugged to his chest and held tightly. Tighter than he had ever held her before. She felt like her bones would break, perhaps she should shove him away, but all she could do was slump into his embrace feeling dizzy and ill. She had stretched herself too far. She had done too much. She could feel the fever climbing.

"Thorin I don't feel so good." She whispered.

"I've missed you so much. Please don't go. I can't..."

"Didn't I tell you that you'll never be rid of me? I swore I'd never leave you for long." She reminded him gently. How many times she had had to leave him, going on the diplomatic missions to Greenwood? She would admit it was too many for her liking sometimes, but she had been the dwarven ambassador to the elves long before she had ever married him. She hadn’t been away too long, had she? She felt like she hadn’t, but then…her children were almost fully grown. Poor Kili had inherited her line’s inability to grow a proper beard, but he was handsome still and she’d beat any who dared insinuate otherwise.

"Any moment without you by my side is too long."

"You're being melodramatic again Thorin." She said in fond exasperation. He was a melodramatic idiot but he was her melodramatic idiot.

"No I-..."

Bili felt the world going dark at the edges of her vision and she began to feel boneless as she held on to Thorin. He made a noise in the back of his throat, wounded and broken. She tried to stay but she couldn't, she couldn't because there was fire. Fire coming towards her, consuming her whole. She wouldn't scream. She wouldn't let them see her afraid of this heat.

"I love you."

She hoped she said it aloud, but she wasn't sure. Darkness blanketed her vision and she grew limp in Thorin's grip.

\--

Two days later Bilbo awoke in the arms of Thorin. The dwarven king slept curled around Bilbo like a shield, as if somehow his body would be enough to keep Bilbo safe from all the dangerous things in the world. It made Bilbo huff weakly in laughter, for it was only a day ago that Bilbo had been the one to shield Thorin from Azog. He couldn't say why he had done it, Thorin hadn't been kind to him before, hadn't cared. Yet something in Bilbo told him that nothing at all would be right in the world if Thorin died. Strange wasn't it? Ah well stranger things had happened on this insane quest, Bilbo thought to himself as he curled back into Thorin's body. What was just one more very odd occurrence?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is exasperated and Dori muses on what was.

Bilbo was going to scream. Yes it was all well and good that he had finally been accepted into the Company. It was wonderful that Thorin wasn’t looking at him like he was the lowest and most irritating of burdens to bare. Bilbo liked the companionship. He really and truly did.

He just wanted to privacy.

Beorn’s house was safe. Beorn was safe, or as safe as a giant man who could change into a raging bear could be. He at the very least liked Bilbo. They were safe and secure and Bilbo was happy enough to have plenty of food. It was just…

The dwarves wouldn’t leave him alone. Fili and Kili had practically become dwarf shaped barnacles. Thorin hovered in the shadows with a perplexed and irritated face, refusing to come closer but also steadfastly refusing to let Bilbo (and the boys) out of his sight. Dwalin was far more up front about such things, settling himself near Bilbo, shadowing him far more closely than Thorin deigned to do. That seemed to irritate Nori for some unholy reason and the dwarf was always simultaneously glaring at Dwalin and trying to be just a little bit closer to Bilbo than Dwalin. Dori simply ignored his brother, Dwalin, and the princes, seeming to make it his personal mission to mother hen Bilbo. If Bilbo even thought about getting himself something Dori would manage to procure it and artfully arrange it before handing it to Bilbo like it was his solemn duty now to take care of him before Bilbo could even twitch in the direction of what he wanted. Gloin had become even more enthused over showing Bilbo the portrait of his family. Oin had an eye trained on Bilbo all the bloody time now. Balin was less obtrusive but always staring at Bilbo now. Bifur only reacted if Beorn came too close to Bilbo, muttering darkly in Khuzdul and his hand reflexively going towards his boar spear.

The only ones who didn’t seem to be affected by the new madness were Ori, Bofur, Bombur, and Gandalf.

Which was why Bilbo tried to hide amongst the sane ones, only to realize that the sane ones could not form a protective anti-insane dwarf barrier that would give him some peace. Well if Gandalf was in the mix sometimes the wizard managed to get the others to leave him alone, but more often than not the dratted wizard would sit by and smoke his pipe looking amused.

So Bilbo had to take matters into his own hands.

“ENOUGH!” The hobbit shouted, his foot stamping on the floor to emphasize his point as all the dwarves grew quiet. “I do not know or particularly care why I have become the center of your mad attentions but I will not tolerate it any more today. I am going outside and I am going to garden and if anyone attempts to interrupt me for anything less than immediate mortal peril I will become very cross.”

There was silence after his proclamation, though Bilbo did not linger to enjoy it. With an angry huff he turned and marched out of Beorn’s cabin heading directly to where the garden was.

Dori simply sighed at the display and began to rummage around in his bag for his knitting supplies. There was a tinge of remorse in his heart for helping to unsettle Bilbo with his actions, but another greater part was just happy to have one of his dearest friends back. Before, when Bilbo had not been Bilbo and had instead been Lady Bili, ambassador to the Woodland Realm, and head of the infamous ‘Li clan Dori had known her well. Honestly how couldn’t he have when his family had been in service to hers for at least six generations? He had been her personal servant and closest confidant. Even Dwalin hadn’t enjoyed being privy to as much of Bili’s thoughts as Dori had been.

He could even remember the first time Bili and Thorin had truly spoken with each other. The prince had not been respectful, very few people had ever been respectful to Bili’s clan despite their nobility, and had crossed a line with his words (calling her a tree shagging sympathizer of questionable descent and unfortunate looks). Prince or no Bili never took to insults kindly and had simply done what she always did when confronted with prejudice and cruelty.

She had broken his nose with the first punch and blackened his eye with the second before primly turning away and marching to where Thror and Thrain had been gaping at her like fish. She handed them her latest report, sent another nasty look to Thorin who had been trying to stem the flow of blood pouring from his nose, before walking away. Dori remembered fretting over how she had punched the second in line to the throne but Bili had waved his worries away.

They were dwarves and he had to understand that she was still quite dwarvish at heart even though her clan had been pledged to Yavanna’s service. That Thorin also had to one day get through his thick skull, quite like many Durins before him, that just because they served Yavanna didn’t mean they had turned their back on Mahal or had forgotten their history or heritage. Just because they cultivated the medicinal herbs, worked in the few gardens Erebor had, maintained the mosses and lichens, and made sure that the forest outside the mountain was healthy, and often got designated to dealing with the elves didn’t mean they didn’t have a stone sense or couldn’t work a forge or didn’t know good steel from bad. They had simply taken up the duty no other dwarves had wanted to do or had even felt was necessary to do.

Dori had been devastated when he had realized Bili hadn’t made it out of the mountain. Bili had always been more to him than just his mistress. They had grown up together. They had lived in each other’s pockets for years. Even when she had married Thorin Dori had maintained his position as her personal servant, Nori had even been allowed to remain among her guard. They had been family in all the ways that had counted.

And Dori was not ashamed to admit that he had blamed the line of Durin for her death. Well at least the royal family anyway. The only ones who he had not blamed had been Fili and Kili, too young to have a say in anything, and far far too young to lose their mother to dragon fire. Dori and Nori would have served the young princes still if it had been feasible. Yet no one had money, no one could afford to have servants even royalty, and Dori had had to make the decision to take up tinkering to keep food on the table. All the while the hole where his friend had once been ever aching.

Now there was a chance for that hole to mend. Dori could have his friend once more, though she was now changed and different a soul stayed the same. Especially if it was a dwarven soul. So what if Bilbo was now a hobbit? Bilbo had all the things that mattered, courage, kindness, stubbornness, and a good head on his shoulders.

And as a string of familiar dwarvish curses filtered inside Dori smiled. Oin already grumbling and getting up to follow where their leader had foolishly gone. It seemed there was one other trait that Bilbo shared with Bili, the Mahal blessed right hook that tended to break Durins’ noses.


End file.
